


Iced Offee, Caramel Twist

by mylordshesacactus



Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Found Family, Gen, LOOK SOMEONE HAD TO WRITE IT OKAY, coffee shop AU, shameless fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-28
Updated: 2016-02-28
Packaged: 2018-05-23 16:03:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6121915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mylordshesacactus/pseuds/mylordshesacactus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Good things start in places that are warm, and dry, and feel like home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Iced Offee, Caramel Twist

**Author's Note:**

> I know. I know. I'm trash.

 

“You ordered,” Anakin said flatly, “an _iced caf_.”

The customer's face screwed up self-righteously as he snapped, “Well, I never asked for it to be _cold!_ This is unacceptable!”

“Iced,” Anakin repeated. “You ordered an _iced_ caf and you're yelling at me because it's—”

He'd never understand how Obi-Wan always managed to sense an impending explosion from the other side of the room, but the interruption came right on schedule. “ _Yes, thank you, Anakin, I'll deal with it!_ ”

“Be my guest,” he shot back, ignoring Obi-Wan's sigh as they switched places. The man with the iced caf glared, squinting at Obi-Wan's “Manager” tag for a solid ten seconds.

“I want to talk to a manager,” he demanded.

Despite the choice words Anakin could have offered at _that_ , he contented himself with fuming and turning to the line. He brightened a bit when he saw his next customer.

“Just a regular iced caf,” she said, visibly fighting a smile. “And you can make it as cold as you like.”

“Padmé,” he informed her seriously, “you are an angel.”

* * *

 

Anakin pinched his nose.

“Okay,” he said. “Seriously, we've had a white mocha sitting here for twenty minutes with no name on it. Guys? It's cold now. You bought cold caf. No? Fine. Anyone want a free small white mocha that's kind of cold? If anyone comes up here in five minutes asking where their white mocha is I'm pouring it on their—”

“ _Anakin_.”

“Head,” he finished mildly. “With love and appreciation for a loyal customer.”

That got a laugh from the line.

“I don't need to tell you I'd take that offer,” a familiar voice called from about halfway through the queue. She caught Anakin's attention with a casual wave. “But I'd just as soon have a fresh one, if you don't mind.”

“Debate team?” he guessed.

Eirtaé rolled her eyes good-naturedly. “Is it ever not?”

Anakin gave her a mocking salute. She came in almost every morning with the same group order; Anakin altered the drinks judiciously based on their debate schedule, which he absolutely did not have a copy of pinned to the wall in his room. “I'll get you started. The usual?”

“I'm not in a hurry, take care of the others first.”

“You're ordering eight drinks, my dear,” Obi-Wan pointed out from the register. “This is in _everyone's_ best interest.”

Anakin rolled his shoulders and began setting out an array of drinks that by now he could probably mix in his sleep. He had to give this to Padmé's debate team, they were a _consistent_ bunch.

Rabé's latte, Yané and Saché were both of the macchiato persuasion, the vast majority of the others had either mochas or regular cafs, and then normally Sabé and Padmé had either iced or hot caf depending on the weather. Except they had their first debate of the season on Tuesday, which meant their team captain would accept nothing less than a triple espresso and her girlfriend would order the same out of either habit or sympathy.

“You know,” he called to Obi-Wan as he started labeling drinks. “Maybe it wouldn't _be_ in everyone's best interests if we had more people.”

“Yes, Anakin.”

“I'm just saying. And then we could have _shifts_. Maybe even _days off_ sometimes. We could do laundry before midnight!”

“Two large cappuccinos, Anakin.”

* * *

 

Anakin had mopped exactly a third of the shop when Obi-Wan looked up at the chrono and waved for his attention.

“I'll finish that,” he said. “You're going to be late.”

“Uh,” said Anakin. “Late for what?” At Obi-Wan's raised eyebrow, he groaned. “I _said_ I didn't want to go!”

Cue exasperated sigh. “Honestly, Anakin. It's only an information meeting.”

“I'm not _interested_ , Obi-Wan.” He started pointedly mopping again. Obi-Wan had been trying to get him to join this local mentor group thing for _years_. “Haven't we got enough to do without me having to teach some little kid how to read?”

“It's not a tutoring position, Anakin,” Obi-Wan said with irritating patience. “I think you could have quite a lot to offer.”

“What am I supposed to do with a kid?” he demanded. “Teach them how to clean windows? You know Coruscant has labor laws about that, right?”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan said drily. “I cannot imagine any child possibly being interested in speeder repair, podracing, or building and programming droids. Clearly, you have nothing of interest to bond over. The poor thing would be bored to tears.”

Anakin thought about it.

“Fine,” he said. “I'll go down and grab a pamphlet if you'll stop bugging me about it. But I'm _not_ signing up for an interview!”

* * *

 

“Hey!” Ahsoka chirped.

Obi-Wan checked the time. “You're early,” he informed her as she moved a pitcher of milk and pushed herself up to perch on the self-service counter.

“I skipped class,” she said carelessly. “Hey, Rex.”

“Afternoon,” Rex called from inside the pastry display.

“Ahsoka,” Obi-Wan started sternly. “You need to—”

“Skyguy!”

He sighed.

“Ahsoka!” Anakin paused in the door to wave with the hand not holding a trash bag. “Where'd you come from? I didn't think you'd be here yet.”

“Apparently,” Obi-Wan said with as much pointed disapproval as he could manage, “she's skipped class.”

Thank goodness Anakin at least had the grace to frown. “Hey, now. You'll make me look bad.” He set the trash down and crossed his arms. “What class is it, anyway? I know you don't like your Galactic Lit teacher, but...”

Ahsoka rolled her eyes and waved his concern off. “Coruscant History. It's a joke. I'm not gonna stick around so some human can make me take notes about 'ongoing _alien_ oppression'.” She sketched mocking quotes around the words. “It's not even gonna be on the exam, she's just doing it because there was a gap in the syllabus and she gets to show a holo instead of teaching.”

“Okay. That's fair.”

“Anakin!”

“What? It is!” Obi-Wan's eyes narrowed and he opened his mouth, but Anakin plowed forward before he got a chance to protest. “When's the new guy showing up anyway? I want to get out of here as soon as we can to find a good spot.”

Obi-Wan started to answer. Ahsoka interrupted him.

“There's a new guy?” she demanded.

“Yeah, you probably know him,” said Anakin. “He goes to your school, I think. Calls himself Fives.”

Ahsoka laughed. “Oh, man. You guys are gonna have the Domino Squad in here _all_ the time.”

Obi-Wan sighed. He supposed there was no harm in the nickname; the young men in question used it themselves. The brothers were entirely inseparable, all one year apart. One-two-three-four-five in quick succession. Just like dominos.

What their parents could possibly have been thinking was another matter entirely. Their poor mother.

“As long as they buy something,” he said wearily. “I'm certain he'll show up soon.”

“Yeah, him and the others.” Ahsoka cocked her head. “Which one's Fives? I get them mixed up. Is he the one who looks like Rex?”

Rex pulled his head out of the freezer with a skeptical look. “None of those kids look like me.”

“He kinda does, Rex.”

“You're joking!”

“Snips,” Anakin said quickly. “If we're gonna catch a shuttle, we'd better get a move on.”

Obi-Wan shook his head as she jumped eagerly down from the counter. “I still don't think you should be rewarding her for skipping school with an airspeeder tournament.”

“C'mon, Obi-Wan. We're learning physics!” Anakin exclaimed with cherubic innocence. Ahsoka grabbed his sleeve and pulled him out the door before Obi-Wan could come up with a suitably witty rebuttal.

He rubbed his temples and went to take out the trash.

* * *

 

Ahsoka pressed herself into the wall and sidestepped gingerly to let the Besalisk pass her. There were some kinds of people you just didn't want to get in the way of, and the kind holding six extra-large triple espressos in four hands were near the top of the list.

“Hey,” she called to Obi-Wan over the chatter of the crowded shop. “You guys need a hand back there?”

He shook his head as he accepted a credit chip. “Thank you, Ahsoka, when you're older! I'm so sorry about this, we didn't expect to be quite this busy.”

“It's fine!” she called, and then decided that she was taking up too much space near the counter and ducked through the crowd to get past the line.

She _liked_ it here. It was clean and warm, full of comfortable chairs, and even had a decent view; they were still below ground level but higher up than Ahsoka spent most of her time, that was for sure. And the shop overlooked a transport trench, which meant there was sunlight and kinda-fresh air outside. It was small, but it was nice. And Obi-Wan liked her, which meant he'd sometimes offer her a drink or something out of the bakery display that she couldn't eat. Anakin kept saying the last thing he needed was Ahsoka on caf, and they kept ignoring him.

She was still _bored._

She could grab a flimsi mag if she was desperate enough, but Obi-Wan's good taste didn't win out over his desire to attract return customers and anyway they were all months out of date by this point. She couldn't even sit and people-watch from any of her usual spots, the place was so full.

Cody was sick, which meant Fives was covering him, which meant his brothers had taken the prime corner booth and were barely even buying anything. One of her favorite places by the window was taken, too, but she couldn't resent it; Waxer and Boil were about her age, went to one of the schools on this level, and once a week when neither of the boys had work or practice they'd pick their little sister up from daycare and walk down to the shop to get her hot chocolate and a muffin and color in their booth. It was kind of adorable and Numa was really sweet.

Ahsoka thought about joining them—they were friendly and they knew her by now, and she liked hanging out with kids, but the weekly caf-shop date was sort of _their_ thing. It felt like intruding.

Ugh. If she didn't find something to do soon she'd have to go into the back room and do her _homework_. She was _that_ bored.

She didn't know or care about most of the people here; some of them were regulars but none of them were very interesting ones, and the majority of the faces were unfamiliar. A lot of humans, a Toydarian, a handful of Twi'leks, and oh wow.

Anakin would've laughed if he'd seen how quickly she sat upright; he'd almost inhaled their saltseed puffs last month when he'd dropped by to help her study group and Riyo had walked in. Anakin could shove it. This one was _really pretty_.

It wasn't like Ahsoka'd never seen her before. She was in here like every day during the week; she just never really attracted much attention. She came in with a bookbag and an ID card from one of the fancy braniac advanced academies, ordered a regular black caf, and politely disappeared. Ahsoka suspected she was at her normal table, if only because nobody else probably wanted it; it was one of the tiny two-person ones, with the old uncomfortable chairs Obi-Wan had been trying to gradually replace with nice ones, and it was tucked behind a weird teal plant.

It didn't seem to bother her, though. She had her bag tucked under the table, a flimsi pad and stylus in front of her, and a datapad she was typing at while she frowned at the holo it was projecting, which looked like a meticulously-labeled diagram of a blob.

Only one thing missing.

Bouncing slightly on the balls of her feet, Ahsoka squeezed behind the counter.

“Is it all right if I grab something?” she asked. She was pretty sure Obi-Wan would say yes, but she wasn't about to take anything without permission. They trusted her here.

Obi-Wan just looked grateful that there was something he could do. “Be my guest, my dear. I wish we had time to talk. Help yourself.”

“Thanks!” She knew her way around back here pretty well, even if she wasn't allowed to help for another year, when she was sixteen and they could pay her. Anyway, it didn't take a genius to pour plain black coffee.

“Snips, you want anything in that?”

“You have customers,” she told him, ducking between two older humans who were sniffing about the delay. _Hoo, boy. Have fun with these ones, Skyguy_.

The girl didn't look up as Ahsoka approached her table; she didn't even seem to register anyone being there until Ahsoka sat down across from her, making her jump.

“Hey,” Ahsoka said, putting the caf down where it would be out of the girl's way.

She blinked in surprise and smiled. “Hello. I'm sorry, I was distracted. Can I help you?”

Ahsoka nodded toward the cup of caf. “I just thought you might want that. It's on me this time.”

The girl's eyebrows shot up, but her smile came much easier this time. “Thank you. I was waiting for there to be less of a line, but...”

Ahsoka grinned. “Yeah, I don't think that's gonna happen. I'm Ahsoka, by the way.”

The girl reached across the table to accept her offered handshake. “Barriss Offee,” she replied. “I've seen you here before, haven't I? The owner's...daughter?”

Ahsoka blushed. “N-no, not...no. Just...Anakin's a friend. I mean, he's kind of my brother. And kind of not. I'm his—he's my mentor,” she finished lamely. “So I hang out here a lot.”

If she expected Barriss to react awkwardly, she was pleasantly surprised. The girl—and she'd be Mirialan, Ahsoka guessed, the skin and the tattoos—sat forward with real interest and warmth. “That's wonderful. I can understand the urge, it's a very friendly environment.” She made a face. “Even if I would rather work somewhere quieter.”

Ahsoka frowned. “So why don't you? I mean!” She backpedaled hastily. “Sorry! That came out rude. I mean why come here all the time if you don't like it?”

Barriss gave a long-suffering sigh and twitched like she was too polite to roll her eyes, but _really_ wanted to.

“My mother worries when I spend all my time at school or in my room working,” she said. “I don't mind spending a few hours a day in a comfortable caf-shop to make her happy. At least I get some homework done, although I'm worried my GPA may be slipping.”

 _That_ was something familiar. “Hey,” Ahsoka said kindly. “No worries, we've all been there. Where's it at now? You can probably bring it up.”

Barriss typed something into the diagram she was working on. “Hmm? Oh. 5.2.”

Ahsoka stared at her.

“Uh,” she said. “Okay. So...what are you working on?”

For some reason she still expected to get an answer like “a class reading,” or “Physics,” or “researching a paper” like a normal person would give. Instead Barriss' eyes lit up as she brought up the holo again and started talking about xenobiology.

Ahsoka understood about every fifth word. She nodded when it felt appropriate and said “Cool” when Barriss looked over at her, and tried really hard to pay attention while mentally planning how to bail out of the conversation.

After a few minutes Barriss stopped talking abruptly and buried her face in her hands.

“I'm so sorry,” she said. “I always forget—it's Ahsoka, isn't it? I get excited and...”

“It's fine,” Ahsoka said quickly. She meant it; she didn't know what any of Barriss' words meant but she was really passionate about it, which was actually kinda cool. “I think I understood the part about lungs?”

Barriss opened her mouth, seemed to think better of it, and asked instead, “What are you studying?”

Ahsoka didn't really want to talk about the stupid pastoral poetry unit she was in the middle of, or how much it sucked being non-humanoid in a Core-world Health class that was almost entirely about humans, or her stumbling attempts to understand algebra.

“Um,” she said. “Well, Anakin's teaching me a lot about speeders. A-and I hang out with Padmé sometimes, she helps with history and...stuff. She showed me how to throw a punch! Like, what to do with your thumb and how to keep your wrist straight...I um, I'm trying to beat Sabé's high score in this one strategy game she likes...” Ahsoka could feel her cheeks burning. It was hard to feel anything but clumsy and stupid when she got historical dates and names mixed up and Barriss was in level five advanced xenobiology on a premed track with a physically impossible GPA.

Barriss didn't seem to think she was dumb, though. She sat forward and folded her arms on the table.

“What kind of strategy game?” she asked, eyes sparkling with interest.

* * *

 

Anakin had been scrubbing the inside of the same mug for ten minutes, looking exhausted and shell-shocked. Fives was doing his best to straighten up but he kept swaying slightly, blinking like he was trying not to fall asleep standing up. Obi-Wan, who was holding a broom apparently more for comfort than any intention to sweep anything, understood the urge.

If he didn't own the place, he would be asking for permission to go home early. Honestly he was surprised Fives hadn't done so. He'd certainly earned it.

“Well done, everyone,” he said tiredly, setting the broom against the wall and then immediately picking it back up again. Not holding something that could be used to beat off hypothetical customers made him feel too exposed at the moment.

“Never again,” Fives whispered. “I don't...nondairy latte fat-free half-and-half with a caramel twist I don't...those words don't go together...”

Anakin clapped him on the shoulder. “Just wait until someone orders hot iced tea, soldier.”

Fives blanched.

The bell over the door gave a pleasant jingle. Obi-Wan clutched his broom.

“We're closed,” he said reflexively; then, “Luminara!”

Anakin, who had hidden behind the milk frother when the door opened, tentatively stuck his head over the top. “Oh, hey. Lock the door. And board over the windows while you're at it, in case they come back.”

“They're paying customers, Anakin,” Obi-Wan explained patiently, “not a horde of locusts. Do come in, Luminara, it's been too long.”

Luminara Unduli was kind enough to listen to Anakin and lock the door behind her. Obi-Wan finally set the broom down and came out from behind the counter to hug her. He so rarely had the chance to spend time with an old friend—with the shop to look after and her being so busy at the university she barely had time to eat, making their schedules align was a vague dream.

“I kept meaning to drop by,” she sighed, making Obi-Wan suspect she was thinking the same thing. “I'm afraid I can't stay long.”

Anakin waved a dishrag from behind the counter. “Can we get you anything while you're here this time?” Luminara started to politely turn him down until Obi-Wan shot her a reproachful look.

“I suppose I wouldn't turn down a cup of tea if you insist.”

Anakin grinned. “Was that so hard?”

Luminara's lips twitched and she shook her head. “I really only came to pick up Barriss, I thought she was here but she didn't respond to the message I sent her.”

Something fell to the floor as Fives flinched violently. “There are still people here?”

That came as news to Obi-Wan as well, actually. “You're sure she didn't decide to take a shuttle?”

Luminara took out her comlink for a moment before shaking her head and slipping it back into a pocket, looking suddenly anxious. “She has before, but never without telling me. It's not like her not to respond.”

“Mmm.” Obi-Wan placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “I'll check again. One moment. Please—do sit down, and try not to worry. I'm sure there's a simple explanation.”

Despite his assurances, the shop was not large; there were few enough places even someone as quiet as Luminara's adopted daughter could manage to hide. He checked a secluded corner sofa twice just in case she'd finally fallen asleep studying, but it really was empty. He was about to suggest Luminara check the 'fresher when voices caught his attention.

Just to be sure, he checked the source, smiled, and returned to the front.

“No luck?” Luminara tried to sound merely disappointed, but the tension in her shoulders and her death grip on the mug in her hands betrayed her. Rather than answer, Obi-Wan winked, put a finger to his lips and motioned for her to follow him.

Worried as she was, he noticed she didn't set the tea aside. Anakin would take that as a compliment.

The break room door was slightly open; Obi-Wan put careful pressure on the lightweight faux wood that let the door swing in silently, enough to give Luminara enough of a view that she covered her mouth to hide her smile.

Barriss' bookbag and coat had been set up neatly on a chair but her shoes were on the floor where they had apparently been kicked off for comfort, and Ahsoka's things were in a heap nearby. The girls themselves—and he'd thought it odd that Ahsoka would leave without saying goodbye, but then they had been _very_ busy—were curled up in the corner of the beaten-up sofa Anakin had found for a few credits, focused intently on the datapad in Barriss' hands.

“No no no,” Ahsoka said. “You need ground troops there, it's a chokepoint, see?”

“But the ground troops barely do any damage compared to what a fully-upgraded heavy weapons tower is capable of,” Barriss protested, fingers reflexively lifting off the datapad as Ahsoka yelped and reached over to tap instructions. “And they have a higher attack rate, which is essential for dealing with the droidekas in the tenth wave.”

“Ground troops slow the faster ones down, though,” Ahsoka pointed out. “And the razor wire won't stop non-organic enemies.”

“We could electrify it,” Barriss suggested.

“Yeah, but— _focus fire on the rancors, they're almost out of artillery range!_ —that's like three expensive upgrades away and most of these enemies aren't droids, I don't think it's worth it when we could just put low-level troops in the way to slow them down.”

“All right, we'll focus on the gun emplacements at the crossroads, then. Their range and firing rate makes up for any advantage the ground troops might have given us and frees up more resources.”

There was a pause while the girls watched the screen anxiously. Obi-Wan glanced at Luminara, whose eyes were shining as she sipped her tea and tried not to laugh.

“Huh.” Ahsoka sounded surprised. “That worked really well.”

Barriss drew herself up slightly, pleased. “I thought it might. Do we want armor-piercing snipers or rapid-fire automatics on the northern tower, by the way, the next wave is about to start.”

“Armor-piercing, armor-piercing, there's only a few fast waves on this level! Call in an air strike!”

“I see the troop transport, Ahsoka, that's what our rear artillery is for.”

“Well _someone_ programmed our rear artillery for fire damage and that's a droid ship!”

Barriss swore and scrambled to click through options; after a moment she and Ahsoka made identical sounds of dismay and sat back.

“Told you,” Ahsoka said, looking smug.

Barriss handed the battered datapad over with a fond roll of her eyes. “I'm still learning the system,” she said. “Maybe if you would stop backseat piloting...” Ahsoka jabbed her in the side and made her squeak.

Clearing her throat faintly, Luminara reached out and knocked on the doorframe.

Barriss and Ahsoka looked up in surprise; Ahsoka saw Obi-Wan and waved, and Barriss gave a polite nod. A moment later, she spotted her mother. Her eyes widened as she patted her leg like she was reaching for a handheld chrono.

“I'm so sorry,” she said when she realized it would be in her coat across the room. “What time is it?”

“Late enough that I was concerned,” Luminara responded. Barriss winced, disentangling herself from Ahsoka as she hurried to her feet.

“I'm sorry,” she repeated. “I lost track of time, I didn't mean—”

“Barriss,” Luminara chided gently. “It's perfectly all right. Are you going to introduce me?”

Barriss flushed. “This is Ahsoka. Ahsoka...”

“Oh, hey.” Ahsoka bounced to her feet. “Are you Barriss' mom?”

Luminara took Ahsoka's hand with good grace. “I am. It's a pleasure to meet you, Ahsoka.” She shot a dry look at Barriss. “She doesn't spend nearly enough time outside of her books.”

“Mother,” Barriss complained.

Luminara valiantly fought back a smile as she put an arm around Barriss' shoulders, pulling her in gently to kiss her temple. “I worry because I love you, my dear. Did you enjoy yourself?”

Barriss rubbed her hands over her face. “I...yes.”

“Good.” Luminara smiled. “Much as I would like to stay, I'm afraid I have a very early class to teach in the morning. Barriss, if you'd like to take a shuttle later...”

Barriss shook her head quickly as she pulled her shoes on, still embarrassed. Ahsoka looked disappointed, but held Barriss' coat out for her nonetheless. “No, no, it's fine. Just...give me a minute...thank you, Ahsoka.”

“It was nice meeting you,” Ahsoka said, and Obi-Wan was certain there was a hint of wistfulness there. She glanced at the time on her datapad and winced. “I should get going too. Sorry I distracted you from your homework.”

Luminara raised an eyebrow, and Barriss instantly looked guilty. “I—it was nothing,” she said quickly. “I can finish it before bed, and I'll do the reading on the shuttle tomorrow, I promise.”

“I must be dreaming.” Luminara shook her head. “I would have sworn it would take nothing short of a planetwide calamity to convince you to take a break. Ahsoka, isn't it?”

Ahsoka flashed a sheepish grin. “Yes, ma'am.”

“Do you need a ride home?”

* * *

 

Luminara waited until Ahsoka had shouldered her fourth-floor door open and waved before nudging the speeder away from her apartment complex.

“She seems nice,” she commented, glancing at the passenger seat.

Barriss smiled faintly. “She is, yes.”

“She's very polite.” Ahsoka had protested Luminara taking them to dinner on the way home, despite their destination only being a relatively clean, quick diner Obi-Wan was fond of. Luminara had insisted; Ahsoka was tiny, deceptively quiet, and didn't look like she ate enough. From what little she knew of the girl from talking to Obi-Wan, it was entirely likely she _didn't_. Anyway, dinner was a small enough favor.

Barriss rolled her eyes when she thought Luminara wasn't looking. “Yes, mother.”

“What were the two of you so engrossed in? You certainly seemed to be having fun.”

“It was just a tower-defense game. She plays it with a friend.”

“Someone I know?”

“I don't think so. A girl from Naboo, I think, from one of the politics and art academies.”

A raised eyebrow. “I wouldn't guess Ahsoka would be interested in politics.” Though she could certainly see the girl as an artist, she supposed, if of a persuasion highly unlikely to endear her to one of the elitist specialized art academies.

“She's not. I think she goes to one of the local schools here. We didn't really talk about school, so that should make you happy.”

Luminara gave her a mild look, but let it pass.

Barriss seemed embarrassed at her moment of pique. “She spends a lot of time at the café, that's all.”

“Do you think you'll meet up with her again? I shall take a hint and not say a word about work-life balance, which I'm sure you will appreciate.”

This time Barriss didn't bother hiding it when she rolled her eyes, but there was very little conviction behind it. “I don't know. I do have actual work to do, you know. Maybe. I'm not going to be rude.”

“Well, I thought she was very sweet.”

“ _Yes_ , mother.”

* * *

 

“So, I was thinking...”

“You do entirely too much of that when I am paying you to mix drinks,” an aggrieved Obi-Wan replied. “You're falling behind again.”

“Am not,” said Anakin. “Anyway, I was thinking—”

“You are, actually, sir,” said Rex.

“I am not!” Anakin insisted. “And I told you not to call me that.”

“You did, sir,” Rex agreed, before calling two iced mochas.

Anakin gave an exasperated huff and returned to his drinks. “Anyway, I was hoping I could take a day off next week to watch Padmé's debate.”

Obi-Wan gave him a skeptical look as he accepted the credit chip being thrust in his face by an irritable Lannik. “That's awfully short notice, Anakin. I doubt Cody will be able to—no, ma'am, that _is_ your change—fill in, we'll be very short-staffed. I assure you I am not attempting to steal from you, madam, that _is_ the amount owed you.”

“C'mon, Obi-Wan,” Anakin insisted, as usual ignoring the existence of customers. If he wasn't family... “It's gonna be great, they have an amazing topic and this team is, like, their nemesis. Ahsoka wants to go!”

“Doesn't Ahsoka have school?”

Anakin looked at him with the kind of vague pity usually reserved for spoiled purse-pets too stupid to find the food their owners had laid out for them.

Obi-Wan sighed. “ _If_ Ahsoka gets permission to be out of school that day, you can take her.”

He was immediately enveloped in an enthusiastic bear hug that would have been sweet, in a way, if he hadn't been handling incredibly hot coffee.

“Anakin!”

“Sorry!” Anakin let go immediately and hurried to transfer a scoop of ice into a washcloth. “Here. Thank you! _Hey, Snips!_ ” Ahsoka's head popped up from the crush of young women in a corner booth. “Obi-Wan says we can go to the debate next week if you call in sick!”

“That's not actually what I...oh, _Anakin_.”

* * *

 

Anakin's announcement triggered cheers from around the table, Saché toasting Ahsoka while Padmé squeezed her happily with one arm.

“I'm glad,” she said. “I hear so much about you, and we hardly get to spend any time together.”

Ahsoka grinned sheepishly as the rest of the team echoed the sentiment. “Thanks, guys. Should be fun, right?”

“What's your topic?” asked Barriss. She looked a little shell-shocked at being surrounded by Padmé's girls and was sitting very close to Ahsoka, but she didn't seem uncomfortable per se. She had her homework spread out on the table; Eirtaé had been quizzing her for her upcoming Xenoanatomy And -Physiology exam in between chapters of her history reading. Barriss was still holding her caf to her chest like an amulet, but seemed to be enjoying herself for now.

Padmé's eyes flashed and there was a chorus of groans around the table.

“You've done it now,” Sabé observed.

“Our topic this time,” Padmé said clearly, folding her hands on the table in what Ahsoka suspected was an unconscious tic, “Is that the preservation of cultural heritage should extend to the legal support of caste-based servitude systems. We are defending the negative, of course.”

“We were _assigned_ the negative,” Eirtaé said without looking up. “Breathe, Padmé.”

Padmé ignored her in favor of addressing Barriss. “I will never argue in favor of suppressing the sovereignty and traditions of independent systems; the Republic should and _must_ preserve diverse, coexisting cultures or we risk becoming despots. But if a tradition harms entire groups of sentients simply because of an accident of birth—”

Slim fingers curled around Padmé's jaw and turned her to the side, where Sabé could shut her up with a light kiss.

“Save it for the judges, captain,” she said with a fond smile, tucking Padmé's curls behind her ear. “I'm getting a scone. Want one?”

* * *

 

Ahsoka stifled a yawn.

“Seriously, Obi-Wan,” Anakin agreed. “I think we should just close up. Nobody's gonna come all the way out here tonight.”

Thunder shook the windows to support the statement.

Obi-Wan sighed. “There's no harm in staying open. It's not as if we're going anywhere. Fives, if you want to leave early, feel free. Just get home safe.”

Ahsoka blinked, then shook her head. “For a second I thought it was Rex who was working today.”

“You're crazy,” Fives informed her. “We look nothing like each other. Right, sir?”

“ _You're almost identical!”_

Anakin hummed. “I don't see it.”

Ahsoka threw her hands in the air. There was another roll of thunder.

Oh, yeah, she thought as the freezing rain against the window got louder. Something told her nobody would be walking over to grab a cup of caf at the moment.

Honestly, she didn't mind. She'd always liked the place best after hours anyway, and like Obi-Wan said, it wasn't like she had anywhere to go. Obi-Wan and Anakin lived above the shop, and when she got out of school and (just barely) into a mechanics training program Anakin had taken one look at the apartment she'd gotten and told her no way, she was renting their spare room. She'd been working here since she was sixteen anyway. The place had always felt like home.

She watched a raindrop wiggle its way down the window pane for a few minutes. Rainwater was so much cleaner here than she was used to, even after all this time. Anywhere but on the surface of Coruscant—and, sometimes, even there—rainwater got contaminated. After it washed down the walls of skyscrapers, through the gutters and in runoff from the boulevards and warehouses and industrial plants, and filtered through layers of catwalks and streets and shops and back alleys to pour through the underworld like a sieve....well, it was _gross_. It was blackish green and smelled like garbage and duracrete and tasted like old socks if you were stupid enough to drink it.

Mind you, she wouldn't want to drink _this_ stuff, either. It was still coming down from the surface. It just looked like it would only taste a little funny, instead of making her sick for three weeks.

She yawned again and gave a halfhearted wave as Fives left out the back. Obi-Wan made enough of a concession to the total lack of customers that he turned off some of the lights. Ahsoka hadn't realized how much her eyes ached until some of the strain was lifted.

“Can we just admit defeat?” she said. “It's dead out there.”

“I'm terribly sorry for interrupting your pressing social lives,” Obi-Wan said drily.

“It's cold, Obi-Wan,” Anakin pointed out. “It's cold, it's wet, everyone's tired, I want to take a shower and go to bed. There is _no way_ we're going to get even _one_ customer in this kind of—”

The door opened with a faint jingle.

Obi-Wan smirked at Anakin, which Ahsoka barely registered because she'd already jumped to her feet and exclaimed, “ _Barriss!_ ”

“H-hello, Ahsoka.” Barriss managed to return the greeting, but it was a stretch; she was soaking wet and shivering badly, and her sleeve was stained in a way that told Ahsoka she'd run from the shuttle stop and tripped, then skidded on the pavement. It got slippery out there. And the nearest shuttle stop wasn't that close, either.

“Are you okay? Did you—sit down,” Ahsoka said quickly, wrapping an arm ineffectually around Barriss to try to warm her up a bit. “Are you crazy? How did you even get here, you're supposed to be on the other side of the planet!” To no one's surprise Barriss had been accepted into one of the most competitive cutting-edge medical schools on Coruscant; she'd kept up weekly letter transmissions with Ahsoka except during exams, but she'd always suspected that was just to keep Luminara from worrying.

“Winter break,” said Barriss with a shaky smile, leaning into Ahsoka. “I...I-I intended to...I had plans with my mother, but, well.”

Obi-Wan placed a sympathetic hand over hers. “Luminara's transport is being held on Pantora,” he explained when Ahsoka sent him a questioning look. “There was an unexpected blizzard. Stay there. I'll make you something warm. Don't bother arguing, I won't have anyone dying of hypothermia in my shop. Imagine the paperwork.”

Ahsoka squeezed Barriss gently. “I'm sorry. You know she'd have been here if she could, she misses you like crazy.”

“Heads up,” Anakin called. Ahsoka looked up in time to be hit in the face by a large towel. Barriss eagerly peeled herself out of her her dripping coat and wrapped herself in the dry fabric. Ahsoka put an arm around her again.

“It's not her fault,” Barriss murmured as Obi-Wan came back with a large, steaming mug of the same kind of tea Luminara always got. “I just didn't like being alone. It was too quiet. I thought...” She shook her head. “It was silly. I'm sorry to have caused so much trouble.”

That didn't sound silly at all.

“Hey,” Ahsoka said softly, running her fingers through Barriss' wet hair. “You can stop by whenever you want.”

Barriss still looked self-conscious, but she glanced up and smiled. And...whoa.

She'd always been pretty, Ahsoka had always been _really_ aware that her friend was _really_ pretty, but that was. Different. This was different. There was something warm and soft about it even though she was still shivering, something a lot different from when she'd just been a kid with a puppy crush, and the way Barriss' eyes fluttered shut when Ahsoka's fingers stroked over her temple made her breath catch a little.

“You can stay here tonight,” she said, quietly, before she even really knew what she was saying. “I mean...like, with me. Not—there's a couch. You can't go back out in that by yourself. You'll freeze to death.”

“Or drown,” Barriss offered, tired but with a wry smile. She closed her eyes and rested her head on Ahsoka's shoulder—Barriss used to be _taller_ than her. “Thank you, Ahsoka. I'd like that.”

Thunder rolled lazily in the distance. Ahsoka smiled.

 


End file.
